I’ve seen how the other half live, and I like it

The beginning of my first vacation in three years did not start off well. (And please don’t remind me that quitting my job and moving to N. Ireland for a year and visiting 12 different European countries probably qualifies as a vacation – because this is different; this is a VACATION, that was backpacking and included youth hostels). Okay, I digress.

Upon arrival at Newark, I quickly learned that I wasn’t going to make my connection in Cincinnati. Lesson two was that if I didn’t get on the flight anyway, I couldn’t be placed on a flight until Tuesday. Totally not an option. So I flew into OH knowing I’d have to stay the night. I am ashamed that my American public school education did not ever inform me that Kentucky is below Ohio, because that’s where I spent the night. Which is how I officially learned that I am an adult. The young twenty-something Emily would have slept in the airport. I would have hated it, but slept there nevertheless. But the new adult version of Emily stayed in hotel. By herself. And it was lovely.

I hung out in the airport for a good five hours the next day, hopped a flight to LAX and finally arrived at my destination 20 hours after the original game plan. Not a great start.

But things quickly reversed themselves the next day when Nicole, Ted, their friend Steve and I drove north to tour some wineries courtesy of Cloud Climber Jeeps (definitely a recommendation) – where I had the pleasure of being introduced to Edgar, our wonderful guide. The day was perfect, the snow and cold, and work and apartment, and….well…..life seemed to receed quickly into the realm of my “other life”, one that I am currently refusing to think about. There was sun, and fresh air, and great company, and new experiences and the realization that I much perfer white wine over red, and that I’m really not all that into drinking.

Simple words cannot describe how wonderful the day was. For the first time in a very, very long time I felt like myself. When my mom visited me this past September, she kept telling me that I was grumpy. And I disagree, to a point. I’ve amended my persona to meld with NYC culture. Being such a beautiful area (with the sun and the fresh air, and all things wonderful) really made me realize that perhaps I am not a city girl. Perhaps I’m ready for my next adventure, my next chapter…. my next whatever. And that I don’t like grumpy Emily, I like smiley, friendly Emily. She’s much more pleasant and, frankly, a little sassy.

I don’t know what I’m saying. Am I telling you about the first portion of my vacation? Am I telling you about what I’ve started mulling over about myself? Am I telling you I plan on moving next year? I don’t know. But because blogs are indulgent and allow rambling, I have.